


Claims pt 2 - Monsters of the Past

by Monsters_maid



Series: MonsterMaid - WWE [4]
Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Wrestling Stable: Ministry of Darkness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:21:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23531509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monsters_maid/pseuds/Monsters_maid
Summary: Penny is taken before Undertaker to see who has challenged his claim on her.word count: 2267Warnings: D/s flavors
Series: MonsterMaid - WWE [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1693249
Kudos: 2





	Claims pt 2 - Monsters of the Past

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Had a lot of fun with this chapter as we get to understand more of Penny’s position in the Ministry and the Undertaker himself. It’s easy to imagine that if she hadn’t been sold to the Wyatt’s she’d have a high position of power today. Also had far too much fun hinting at the hierarchy of the Ministry and Undertaker’s own powers. If anyone has any ideas/headcanons/questions I’d love to hear them and fill this out further.
> 
> Also, I’m getting a little further away from the actual WWE canon since I believe X-Pac had already betrayed Kane by the time he and Tori were together. 
> 
> Part three is coming soon!
> 
> These stories aren’t consecutive as I tend to jump around how I write. However, they are in linear order.  
> These will eventually mash into other wrestling companies and storylines I enjoy so these aren’t exactly canon or true to the real flow of time. This is just a fun fandom mashup for myself
> 
> Disclaimer: I only own Penny. Everyone is copyright thier own factions/companies. I only write for the personas/characters. I do not write for the actual athletes/actors/people.

The gown was nicer than anything Penny had ever owned. A corset of white silk delicately embroidered to add texture and interest to the panels. The skirts slit up the sides were layers and layers of gossamer lace. The slits showed off her pink legs in thigh high white stockings. She wore dainty white slippers to protect her stockings from the rough concrete floors. Looking at one of the mirrors in the locker room she adjusted the corset that flattered her lithe figure and small bust. It complimented her instead of pushing everything out of proportion.  
She didn’t look like herself. She wasn’t the Penny Cavallo who grew up with a coked out father and had suffered and fought to get here. She looked...like a bride, all decked out in white.

“You are special to him,” Farooq had told her after one of the training sessions had left her feeling especially tattered. “He wouldn’t have chosen you otherwise,”

Penny had sat on the end of the bed in the hotel room as Bradshaw drew her a bath. The two men weren’t only her instructors but her protectors and quickly becoming her friends. She gleaned the information needed to survive in this world through them. They were hard men, but they weren’t cruel. 

“I find that hard to believe,” Penny huffed with tears streaking down her pink cheeks. Her shoulders heaved with the sobs she held back. “He wants me because I’m mad at his brother. I’ll be another tool, I know that,”

The big man with skin like midnight knelt in front of her, wrapping his hands around her shoulders, “If the Boss just wanted you to be another knife to slide between his brother’s ribs, he could do so without the rigors of training. You’re to be a Disciple. His Disciple. How many women or men do you see tending him?”

She swallowed hard, racking her brain. Penny had seen lots of women and men in the ministry locker room when she was allowed in. Plenty of debauchery often went on behind those closed doors and she was told it was the reason she wouldn’t be allowed to formally join their group until she was trained and fully received. Plenty of beautiful people served the brutes and beasts of the Ministry, but she only saw two people serving The Undertaker.

“None...only you and Bradshaw,”

“Because we are bound to him. We are his Acolytes. His right and left hand. It has been a long time since he’s taken someone especially for himself. He sees something special in you, Cavallo. You feel it when he touches you,”

Her cheeks went hot and she lowered her eyes from the other, wrapping her arms over the nightshirt she wore. “I-I don’t...”

“He is a creature of power. He doesn’t give himself away lightly. He’s had many Disciples and many Brides, but it’s been a long time since he’s taken either,”

“Brides...?”

“Explain it to her later, Farooq,” Bradshaw grunted as he came out of the bathroom. Steam drifted from the doorway, smelling of lavender and sandalwood. “Bath’s ready,”

Farooq’s usual straight mouth quirked softly and he ruffled Penny’s curls, “Later then. Go on, girl, into the bath,”

Penny stepped out of the locker room to find Bradshaw, Farooq, and Mideon all waiting on her. Bradshaw had a wine colored cloak of crushed velvet that he settled on her shoulders and pulled the deep hood over her face. With a few finishing pulls on the fabric and adjusting her curls so they spilled pleasantly out of the hood, they were ready.

With the Acolytes flanking her and Mideon carrying the train of her delicate lace gown so it wouldn’t become ruined on the floors, Penny felt like something precious. A shiny penny...the idea made her mouth curl up at the corners. They ran into no one, making good time from the small locker room she’d been training in and through the corridors to the ministry’s larger lockerroom that was across the venue. Her heart raced as she walked, the only sounds of Bradshaw and Farooq’s booted feet and her own quieted hushed slippers on the concrete.

“Do you remember everything?” Bradshaw asked her as they reached the door. He looked nervous almost. Once again his large hands straightening and smoothing the creases of her cloak and gown, adjusting her curls. “Do you remember how to greet him, what to say?”

“You are acting like a damn mother-hen,” Farooq grunted at his partner. “Let the girl go do her stuff. She’s been a good student; she’ll do fine,”

“I’ve had good teachers,” Penny smiled at them, but her stomach was twisting in her belly. She still didn’t understand what this was all about, but she wasn’t going to let her two instructors down. Bradshaw barked at Mideon to go announce her and then they took up their posts on either side of the door. The smaller man slipped into the locker room and after several agonizing heartbeats opened the door for Penny. She took a breath, squaring her shoulders and walked into the locker room.

The Ministry’s locker room wasn’t its usual chaos. Chairs were settled in a type of half circle with all the members sitting in them, facing her. In the center sat Undertaker, a dark god on his throne as he watched her expectantly with those eyes that seemed to glow with their own light. He was dressed differently. No simple ring attire of a shirt and tights. He wore a cape with flared leather wings that curled into sharp shapes making him look even more imposing. The lights were dimmed in the locker room, light mostly by scores of candles. They caught the light on bits of metal on him, making him look even more like an underworld lord. His eyes caught hers and the world fell away. Someone could commit murder in this room and she’d never see it. All she saw was his eyes.

Mideon stepped in front of her, breaking her eye contact with Undertaker. He lowered her hood respectfully, untying the silk cord at her throat and letting the wine colored cloak slip from her shoulders and took the crushed velvet cloth into his arms. 

“He waits for you, Disciple,” Mideon said softly and stepped aside to let her approach her. The few moments were enough that she could compose herself. She couldn’t approach the Undertaker as bold as brass, looking at him so openly. She’d been taught better than that. Eyes focused on the floor in front of her, Penny walked forward with as much composure and grace as she could muster. Once she’d reached the center of the semicircle, she stopped and lowered herself to her knees. Her muscles were still sore from the pose she’d been holding earlier, but the buzz in the air seemed to penetrate her bones. She was able to ignore the pangs as she slid slowly from her knees to bow forward. Arms outstretched, fingertips pressing into the carpet. Her forehead kissed the ground as she paid careful attention to the curve of her back and neck, all one graceful arch. She held the position for a full heartbeat, making sure nothing was rushed or sloppy. Each part, as she was taught, held meaning and respect, for herself as well as the man she approached.

“My Lord, how may I serve you this evening,” Was the greeting she was taught and she spoke as clearly as she could, hoping the carpet didn’t muffle her words. Long moments passed and Penny could feel bile rising in her throat. Had she forgotten something? Was there something else she was supposed to say. Her neck itched to crane up and see what was happening around her. Her breathing becoming more shallow as each moment passed, causing her ribs to ache a little more. 

“Kneel,” The word was spoken smoothly and Penny felt herself go weak with relief. She pushed herself back up, again taking care of her motions, attempting to make everything as seamless and fluid as possible. Kneel-one of the postures. Her back straight, her rear resting on her heels, but her knees were together. Her hands rested on her stockinged thighs and she squared her shoulders. Her eyes remained down, taking in the booted feet before her. She didn’t have his permission to look at him. She wished she did. She wanted to feel the pull of his gaze on her again. 

Undertake shifted in his seat, a hand curling under his chin as he took in the pretty sight of the young woman before him. She lacked the finesse he preferred, her movements still green, and her boldness to hold his gaze as she entered the room. Still, he was aware of how novice she was. As much as he was enjoying testing her, he hadn’t called her here to critique her positions. Besides, he enjoyed her boldness. He hoped she kept it after her training was complete.

His eyes flickered up and over Penny’s bent head to the three shapes that stood in the back of his domain. His brother and the two useless souls with him. The blonde that had captivated his weak brother and the loud-mouthed gnat that somehow had befriended him. Pathetic. Kane was a creature of impulse. Undertaker was hardly surprised his baby brother had let something like the girl before him slip through his fingers.

“You’ve improved greatly,” Undertaker said, praising the young woman and could feel the way she responded to it. She practically shone at his words. She was intoxicating. He wondered if she knew yet the power she possessed. It was still budding inside her, but it promised great things. “I will be sure to let my Acolytes know and reward them for their hard work and I will reward yours as well. Later,” Leaning forward, he pressed two fingers to the underside of her chin, lifting her gaze to his. Her eyes were brown, shimmering shades of chocolate and amber in the flickering candlelight. Her lips delicately glossed and she smelled of flowers. Her Persephone to his Hades; the sudden allegory pleasing him greatly. He indulged himself, fingers playing along the soft skin of her jaw and neck, making her pupil dilate as she continued to hold his eyes. She was clearly ignorant of what he could do to her, the power he could have over her if continued to open the windows of her soul to him like this. “You asked how you could serve me. I’ll answer you, Disciple. I need you to be alert, to be truthful and honest. Can you do that?”

“Yes, sir,” She murmured. He could probably ask her to jump off a cliff at that moment and she would have. She was still too bold to take under his wing, but her potential was unlimited once her guards were better fortified. 

“Good girl. Kneel here, beside me,” He gestured to the place beside his leg and she moved to obey. Undertaker allowed himself one last touch, stroking the curls on her head as she sank prettily beside him. One day soon she’d be ready and he could do more than a few seconds of petting, but right now he was seasoned enough to know he could crush her if she wasn’t prepared. He could feel her high as he twisted one wayward curl around his finger before allowing it to spring back into place and withdraw his hand.

“This is who wanted to check on? Penny?” Came an insolent female voice. The blonde woman known simply as Tori chewed on her lip. Her body language was stiff and uneasy, but it was easy to see from her fit body and revealing clothing why Kane had become so smitten with her. She was a beauty. “She looks like she’s enjoying herself. Come on, Kane. Why are you so worried about her?” A tug on his brother’s arm, a pout on lacquered lips and it was quite clear why he was twisted around this woman’s pinky. 

“Come on. She’s obviously made her choice,” The wiry man with a voice of gravel protested as well. “Forget her. We got a match to get to,”

“No,” Kane’s voice cut through the other two’s arguments. He offered nothing else, eyes riveted on the young woman whose attention was finally drawn to the noise. Undertaker could feel her stiffen beside him. 

“Forget it, I’m out of here,” X-Pac growled. “Don’t know why you’re wasting your time with that broad,” No one stopped him as he marched out of the locker room. Tori shifted on her feet, eyes taking in the dark, eerie seen before her. A macabre trial of sorts. Undertaker’s patience ran out as she started to protest again.

“Kane, tell your whore to shut up or make her leave. We have important business here,” An indignant noise came from the blonde woman’s mouth and her eyes swiveled to Kane to see if he’d defend her. No argument came from the stoic masked man dripping in red and black. Clearly wounded, Tori retreated away from his side, and she left the locker room as well. A gruff chuckle came from Undertaker as he could feel his brother’s sizzling ire, mismatched eyes laser focused on him. “I’ve always told you they won’t understand you. You still try to make friends with the leeches of this world,”

Kane stepped forward, ignoring Undertaker words, his march aggressive as he pointed at the young woman sitting by the dead man's feet, “She is mine. I want her back,”

**Author's Note:**

> I love feedback! I love hearing your ideas and questions as sometimes they include things I’ve never thought of. Please feel free to leave any!


End file.
